Love Inside a Frame
They say that a picture
Is one-thousand words worthy,
Of all of my pictures
I’ll think of you surely
Your eyes are so devious
As that shade of lipstick reveals,
The stains on your chest
Matches what drips on your heels.
And what’s on your chest,
A gaping wide orifice.
I’m amused you’re alive,
My little snuff fetish.
I don’t seek to love,
I trifle not with lust.
My object of affection,
You bring me disgust.
I want your punctured chest.
Rippling with spikes.
Bring it to me and,
I’ll see to it.
Another
Ode to a Struggling Bouquet
I traveled far to find you
Flowering, hidden.
Do you know how you curve?
Like an infant, nestled in arms.
Hues so vibrant,
So strong to survive,
Lavender lover.
Blue creeps into a green sea,
A slice of sky held tenderly
Amongst brown piles.
While yellow brashly
Vies for attention,
Onlookers look on
But I see you.
Five
No, six.
No, five.
No.
100!
Petals shed like days
Apprehended, awaiting.
I took you
And made you mine.
When you wither,
I’ll remember.
